How We Fall
by Seeker of the Stars
Summary: Alcohol addict - Francis Bonnefoy, was never one for responsibility. He never had time to do anything between drinking and sleeping around, but when seven year old Matthew is thrown into his life, he's forced to change the course of things. Except, addiction is something nearly impossible to break out of, and he only has very little time to break free, before it is too late...
1. Prolouge

Prologue

Maybe it was how he spent all night out, or how he never was at home at day, but something stood out about the Frenchman. When Antonio heard that Francis was becoming a father, he couldn't believe it.

The child who had yet to come wasn't his. The child would be given to Francis so that he'd be a _foster_ parent. Antonio didn't know all the details, but he knew Francis didn't sign up for it. It had something to do with a mistake in paperwork or something. But either way, Francis didn't want it.

Between drinking and sleeping around, when would Francis have _time_ to take care of a child?

Yet he was getting one. And that in itself wasn't comforting.

Francis wasn't cut out to be a father. It fit neither his lifestyle, nor personality. His business as a restaurant owner paid well, but he didn't really _manage_ the place. Other people did it for him.

Francis never had such a large responsibility.

Antonio was worried for the child.

Yes, Francis was his friend, but if something went… wrong, Antonio would side with the child. Maybe because of Lovi, his own child, or maybe because it was the right thing to do. There was no way he could turn a blind eye. Even though he doubted Francis would deliberately hurt the child, he would be prepared. He wasn't sure how this would turn out.

But maybe this would be a good thing. For Francis, for the child, for everyone. Ever since Francis lost the love of his life in university, he seemed to have lost his way. Drinking, sleeping around. Never responsible, never attentive. He had a horrible alcohol addiction too.

Perhaps the child would bring light to his dim world, and Francis to the child's.

And that's what Antonio hoped for. He hoped that everything would turn out okay.

Because that's what everyone needed.

* * *

 **Hi! So, this was just an idea I got that I just had to type out.**

 **This is just the prologue, and the story _won't_ be told in Antonio's view, this is just what he thinks about the situation, and a view on Francis' personality. More will be explained in later chapters. The prologue's _really_ short, but the chapters are definitely bigger.**

 **Also, a belated Merry Christmas! I hope you guys had a lovely one!**

 **Anyway, g** **ive this a chance and leave your opinion behind!**


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One

Antonio sighed as he pulled into Francis's driveway. Lovino was at Bella's, playing with Feli, his cousin. He found himself ringing his friend's doorbell within moments. Not one to take long, Francis opened the door, looking exhausted. His eyes lit up at Antonio.

"You're here," Francis rushed Antonio in. "Thank goodness. I was worried. I really need your help."

"Hmm?" Antonio observed the clean house, surprised it wasn't cluttered like always. "What do you mean _mi amigo_? Everything looks-"

"W-What do seven year olds eat?!" Francis questioned frantically, shaking the Spaniard. "C-Can they eat macaroni and cheese? Or lasagne? I got a ton of that today. O-Or crepes? I eat them all the time, what if he doesn't like-"

"Let me go," Antonio voice vibrated. Francis let go of the brunette before looking around the house, hoping he didn't forget to clean anything up. He didn't want the kid to think he was a slob.

"Kids can eat anything they're not allergic to," Antonio almost smiled, finding it funny how the restaurant owner asked such a silly question. "Relax _mi amigo_ , you got everything under control. I didn't think you'd be so _nervous._ Gilbert said that you were unhappy earlier."

 _"_ Earlier, yes. Now, no. The boy-"

"So it's a boy?"

"The boy needs to feel _welcome._ They told me that he came from an abusive home." Francis sighed, leaning back on his marble kitchen counter. The kitchen was open, dining room apart of it, and living room across. "I don't understand why they chose me for someone like him, seeing that… I'm not fit for a task like this… but it's alright. I'll do my best."

Antonio smiled at his friend's optimism. "You'll be fine! Trust me! Gil and I are here to back you up to by the way."

Francis groaned, nodding. "Yes, yes. I know."

Then, the Frenchman found himself searching for wine. He needed something to calm himself down. The boy was coming today. _Today._ He happily pulled out a large, red bottle of wine from his white cabinets.

"You shouldn't be drinking anything," Antonio's tone was disapproving. "Definitely not now anyway."

"It's only wine."

"That's my point."

Francis sighed, reluctantly putting back the bottle with a pout. "You're so mean to me, Toni."

The Spaniard laughed. "So, are you excited?"

"I… I suppose I am," Francis was unsure if what he said was true. "Yes, I am."

"Well, what's the boy's name?"

"Err, I believe Ma… Matthew!" Francis paused. "No, _Mathieu!"_

Antonio shook his head, smile on his face. "Sounds French, like you."

"Well, he's from Quebec, so close enough."

"I wonder is he speaks French," Antonio wondered aloud as Francis scanned the kitchen, making sure nothing was out of place. "That would be cool. Maybe I could teach him Spanish!"

Antonio's words fell on deaf ears. Francis was panicking. He wasn't ready to take on a child. A seven year old, no less. How would he go to the club and take care of Mathieu? Unless there was such thing as a twenty-four hour babysitter, Francis would have to drop many of his favorite activities.

This wasn't _fair._ He didn't want the kid, but somehow, he was lawfully forced to take him in. He couldn't decline. It wasn't in his power to. And knowing that the kid had an abusive past didn't make it easy to turn a blind eye on him. So, Francis would _have_ to be a good guardian. It didn't matter if he wanted to. He _had_ to.

Ugh, he'd have to work something out so he could drink though. He couldn't drop that.

"Well, I came to drop this off," Antonio held out a yellow gift bag Francis hadn't seen before. "It's for the kid. You just told _me_ it's a boy, but I didn't know earlier, so I got something that both boy _and_ girl could like."

"And what would that be?"

"A rubric cube!"

"A… rubric cube?"

"Yes! He'll love it! It keeps the kids busy, and if they don't get angry quickly like Lovi, it'll last a long time!" Antonio happily declared. "And at least you'll have some time to yourself too that way."

"Ah, yes. Thank you, Toni." Francis smiled at his close friend. "I appreciate it."

"I hope _Matteo_ likes it. Tell him Uncle Toni brought it for him earlier, and would love to meet him soon," Antonio checked his watch. "But since he has to pick Lovi up and take him to the dentist, he can't today."

Francis chuckled. "I will, I will. I'm sure he'll like you."

Antonio shrugged, small smile present on his face. He then sighed, before Francis accompanied him to the door. "Give him a chance Francis. Have hope."

"What – I – I do have hope, Toni!" Francis called after his friend, who began to unlock his car. "I do!"

There was a painful silence as Antonio backed out of the driveway, and drove off. Francis sat on the doorsteps to his home, frowning. Yes, he was reluctant to bring the child into his home, his life, but he was doing it nevertheless. Why was everyone so wary? Francis could handle it. He was Francis Bonnefoy! He could handle anything!

Realizing how much he sounded like his albino friend, Francis shook off the thoughts. He had to double check the boy's room. It didn't have much, just a bed, small table and closet. Francis needed to wait a little longer before he bought anything else. After all, the current furniture was dug up from the attic.

The Frenchman headed inside, slamming the door behind him.

French Jazz played softly, and Francis sat in his living room with his eyes closed, soaking the music in, and waiting for Mathieu to arrive. He was to be brought any time now by child services. Francis's head bobbed a little to the music, humming along to the soft tune.

Then, in the middle of the Jazz, there was a soft ring. Francis's eyes snapped open, and with a frown he stared at his music player. There wasn't any rings in the Jazz. What was –?

 _RING!_

The doorbell! Francis resisted smacking himself as he rushed towards the door, but he found himself moving slower and slower as he realized why it rang.

Mathieu was here.

Francis found himself staring at his white, oak door. He was nervous. The only thing that separated him and the boy was a thin door.

 _Why are you so worried? It's just a boy._

Francis forced himself to the door, and he gripped the silver handle while the doorbell rang again, this time faint. Reluctantly, he pulled the door open.

Summer air hit him hard, and his eyes immediately fell on the small boy who was clutching onto the social worker, Elizaveta.

Violet eyes with blonde, wavy, hair and a timid blush had Francis close to fawning over the little thing. Dressed in a white hoodie-shirt and jeans, the boy was looking at the ground, nervous. His grip on Elizaveta's dress didn't loosen.

Elizaveta smiled at Francis, her small form of greeting, and then looked at the seven year old. "Matthew, look. It's Francis, your new guardian."

Mathieu looked up at Francis, and their eyes met for less than a second before Mathieu was hugging the social worker seemingly harder. Francis couldn't help but chuckle, nerves relaxing. "Hello Mathieu. It's nice to meet you, I'm Francis, your new…"

What was he really? A father..?

"Your new caretaker," Francis finally concluded with a smile. "It's nice to meet you."

The boy didn't reply, but his grip on Elizaveta's dress loosened. Francis crunched down to be at eye-level with the young Canadian. "Hmm… I like your outfit, by the way."

At this, Mathieu hesitantly pulled away from the green dress, meeting Francis's eyes again. A small blush conquered his cheeks. " _M-Merci."_

Elizaveta squealed, startling both blondes. "He's so cute!"

Mathieu somehow managed to blush harder. Francis laughed, agreeing with a nod.

"Okay," Elizaveta finally said. "I'm leaving you with nice Mr. Francis, okay Matthew?"

Mathieu was quick to shake his head, gripping onto her dress again. Francis felt a twinge of disappointment that the boy wasn't eager to come with him, but he understood the circumstances well enough to know Mathieu wouldn't be likely to jump at the opportunity of living with a stranger.

As Elizaveta crouched down and whispered something into the boy's ear, Francis stood up, observing the two before glancing back into the house to make sure everything was in place. He turned back to see Elizaveta standing up with a small smile, handing Mathieu a small, red bag.

"You'll be fine, I promise. Mr. Francis is a really nice man," Elizaveta reassured the child. Mathieu nodded, still looking nervous. His voice was quiet as he spoke. "Will you visit?"

"Of course!" she replied without hesitating. With a smile, she waved at Mathieu as she began to back away. "Oh, and I've faxed all the papers concerning Matthew and the arrangement to you. If you have any questions, call me or Roderich!"

Francis nodded, but as Elizaveta disappeared around the house, he realized he didn't have her number. It would probably be on one of the papers she faxed…

He looked down at the young boy who held his red backpack close to his chest. "Well Mathieu, um… let's go inside."

This was awkward. More than he was expecting it to be.

The boy nodded, and followed Francis into the house. Francis smiled as he noticed Mathieu observing the house that took so long to clean. Getting rid of the empty bottles took the longest time.

Francis motioned Mathieu to sit on the dining table. He didn't know much about the boy, so maybe the best way was to just to ask. At least they'd converse that way.

"So Mathieu," Francis sat down across him. "Tell me about yourself."

The Quebecois's cheeks once again redden. "Um… J-Je… I-I…"

"It's okay," Francis's voice was soft. "You can speak French with me too."

Mathieu nodded nervously. "J-Je… I'm f-from Quebec. Um… Y-You already know my name… Uh, I'm seven, and I like… red, pancakes, and polar bears!"

Francis stifled a small laugh. The boy was adorable, and how his voice was getting louder at least indicated that he wouldn't be quiet when they got to know each other. "Hmm, polar bears? Why do you like them?"

Mathieu's smile was shy, but voice no longer quiet. "They're really cool and nice too!"

Francis couldn't help but laugh this time. "Well, I agree with you. Maybe we can go to the zoo soon and take a look at them."

Mathieu was suddenly quiet. "You… you'd take me to the zoo?"

"Of course!" Francis was surprised he agreed to take the child to the zoo so fast, but he strangely found himself looking forward to it. "And we'll look at a lot of other animals too! But we have to wait until we get you settled down, okay?"

Mathieu's head bobbed up and down. "Thank you, Mr. Francis."

"You can call me…" Francis frowned. What could the boy call him? "Um… what do you want to call me Mathieu?"

The boy tilted his head at the adult, seemingly confused. "…I don't know."

Francis smiled. "Call me whatever you'd like for now. We'll decide on something later. Now, do you want to see your room?"

* * *

 **Chapter One is out! Sorry it took so long! I'll do my best to update quicker!** **I plan on updating weekly, possibly a little earlier or later then that, now and then.**

 **Thank you for sticking around! I hope everyone enjoy's the story!** **Please leave your thoughts behind! See you next time!**


	3. Chapter 2

**And here we have the next chappie!**

 **Before it starts, thank you to everyone who's been supporting the story! I'm happy to hear from everyone! I hope you all continue to enjoy it!**

* * *

Chapter Two

Mathieu was surprisingly happy with his room. At least that's what his smile said. As Francis helped Mathieu unpack the little clothes he had in his backpack, he decided that he'd take Mathieu shopping on the weekend. They'd get more clothes, furniture, and anything the boy wanted!

The boy seemed to have grown on him quickly.

"And here are all your clothes," Francis ran his hands through the few clothes that hung on hangers. "We'll get you some more soon, I promise."

"N-No!" Mathieu quickly rushed out. "Y-You don't have to Mr. Francis!"

Francis smiled as he crunched down to Mathieu again. "Of course I do, Mathieu. You're my responsibility now, and I want you to be happy, okay? If you ever want something, you shouldn't hesitate to ask me."

Mathieu looked surprised, but hesitantly nodded. "O-Okay. M-Merci."

" _De rein."_ Francis sang as he stood up. "I'm happy you know French."

Mathieu shrugged. "In… my old home, that's what everyone spoke. I learned English at this special program at school, and from some of my friends."

"Well you seem to speak English excellently Mathieu," Francis smiled. "I can't wait to hear your French soon, whenever you want to speak it."

Mathieu looked down at the hardwood floor. "O-Okay."

"Well," Francis sighed. "I have to go and set dinner. Would you like to help?"

The Canuck nodded.

"Follow me!"

* * *

"You're not allergic to anything, are you?"

Mathieu shook his head as he stuffed a bite of lasagne into his mouth. Francis laughed. "Slow down. The food's not going to run away from you."

With one big gulp, Mathieu swallowed the food, quickly accompanied by water. "Sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Francis took a bite of the lasagne. "You have a little something on your mouth."

Mathieu reached towards where Francis had gestured with a napkin in hopes of wiping the food away, but after a few minutes of trying to tell Mathieu how off he was, Francis decided to wipe the boy's mouth himself.

"Right here," he murmured wiping his face, as Mathieu laughed.

"I thought you meant my right."

"Uh… _my_ right, your left." Francis sat back down. "Anyway, how do you like the food?"

"I like it," Mathieu said with a small nod and smile. "Can…"

Francis urged him to continue speaking.

"…Can you maybe teach me how to cook?" Then he was talking really fast. "I mean, not now but whenever you want and only if you want I don't mean to-"

"Calm down," Francis cut in with a smile. It seemed like he couldn't stop smiling or laughing today. "I'd love to teach you Mathieu. It would be an _honor."_

"R-Really?"

"I do not lie," Francis grinned.

"T-Thank you!" Mathieu bounced in his seat as he chewed another bite. "T-This is… awesome! You're awesome!"

Francis felt his cheeks burn. Mathieu thought he was… awesome?

Gilbert was going to be jealous.

"Err, well, thank you," Francis murmured, hiding a smile. "You're an awesome… person too."

Mathieu's smile was small. "Thank you."

"Um, so," Francis was picking at his food now. "Tell me about yourself."

Mathieu looked confused. "I did."

"Tell me more, _mon amis."_

"Uh… I'm seven. I speak English and French. Oh! And I _am_ allergic to something!"

Francis quickly on his feet, worried that whatever he was allergic to was in the lasagna. "W-What? What is it?!"

"Vegetables," Mathieu stared at him, confused as to why he looked so panicked. "They make my mouth taste bad and sometimes I want to throw them up."

Francis fell back into his chair with a thud. His heart was no longer racing, but he felt as though he had just ran a marathon. "Don't scare me like that."

"B-But it's true! Michelle told me! She was allergic too, but before she moved away she said she was _cured._ "

Francis was amused yet curious. "Cured?"

"Yeah! She said her parents put this yellow stuff on them that made her allergic thingy go away!"

 _Cheese sauce._

So this Michelle's parents must have put cheese dipping sauce atop her vegetables. That was smart. If Mathieu liked it too, then giving the child vegetables would be easy. "Well perhaps I can find a cure for you too. I will have to consult some scientists first."

Mathieu was awestruck. "Scientists?"

"Yes, _mon ami."_

"Wow," Mathieu replied distractingly. Francis chuckled.

* * *

By the time Francis had finished his meal, Mathieu was halfway done. Francis began to wash his plate.

"Tell me about yourself Mr. Francis," Mathieu's voice appeared out of nowhere. Francis almost dropped his plate onto the floor, startled by the voice. "I told you about myself."

"Me?" Francis put the plate on the dish-rack to dry, turning off the tap. He leaned on the counter, facing Mathieu. "There isn't much to know about me Mathieu. And besides, you'll find it boring."

"I want to know," Mathieu protested. "Please?"

"Alright," Francis sighed. "Hmm… well, my favorite color is also red, but blue and white too. I like drinking, going-"

Francis cut himself off fast, realizing what he was about to say shouldn't be said in front of the child.

"Drinking?" Mathieu asked naively. "Drinking what?"

"Um… water. _J'aime l'eau!"_ Francis quickly improvised, forcing a smile.

"Oh! Me too!" Mathieu happily agreed. After scraping the remains of his plate, and eating it, he made way to the sink with his plate.

Francis frowned as he watched Mathieu turn on the tap, on his toes, trying to wash the plate. "It's okay _mon cher_ , I'll do it."

The younger blonde didn't look at Francis as he shook his head, eyes concentrated on the plate. "I-I can do it, it's okay. I always do it."

Francis shook his head. "Well now you won't. Here, let me." Francis ignored the boy's protests as he washed the plate. "See? I'm done already. Oh! I have something to give you, stay here."

Mathieu found himself standing in the kitchen while Francis ran upstairs. Unsure of what to do, he sat back at the dining table. He pushed out all thoughts of everything away and swung his legs around, waiting for the adult in silence.

Francis came rushing down with a colorful looking cube in hand. He held it out to Mathieu. "Here, my friend Antonio – err, your Uncle Toni dropped this off for you. He thought you may like it."

Mathieu looked at the cube with a wondrous expression. "What is it?"

"…You don't know what this is?"

Suddenly looking ashamed, the child looked down at the floor, cheeks red as he murmured a sorry.

"Don't be sorry Mathieu," Francis sighed, crouching down to him. "It's okay if you don't know what it is. You know, I didn't know what it was until your Uncle Toni told me!"

Mathieu's eyes widened. "R-Really?"

Francis nodded at the lie, eyes wide, exaggerating. "Yes, I didn't! But then he told me, so why don't I tell you?"

After explaining how rubric cubes worked, Francis found himself wanting to drink some wine like he did every night. But like Toni said, he couldn't. Not with Mathieu home. He groaned as he opened a cabinet and eyed the bottle. It was _so_ tempting! It was just wine after all, what harm could it do?

He sighed, closing the cabinet and looking to the grandfather clock that sat a few feet away, near the living room. 9:25.

That was late enough for a seven year old, right?

"Okay, Mathieu," Francis sang. The seven year old looked up from the rubric cube. "It's bedtime."

The boy pouted, and it seemed as though he wanted to protest, but he slowly nodded. "O-Okay. T-Thank you, Mr. Francis."

Francis smiled. " _Bonne nuit."_

Mathieu murmured a reply, waved, and began to upstairs. Francis turned back to the cabinet with a grin. Since that was taken care of, he could drink the night away.

As Francis pulled out the bottle, he stopped. He just sent Mathieu off to bed. Was he supposed to tuck the child in? Read him a story? All he did was tell him to go to bed. Was that the proper way of sending a child to bed..?

Francis found himself sighing as he trudged up the stairs.

"Mathieu," Francis knocked on his room's door. "Can I come in?"

With a muffled yes, Francis opened the door to find Mathieu standing outside his closet, wrestling his hoodie. Francis had to stifle a laugh and resist taking a photo of the adorable scene ahead of him. He made way to Mathieu, and helped him take off his hoodie, revealing a t-shirt. He was wearing a lot of layers for summer. He laughed at the boy's flustered expression.

"Thank you," he spoke softly looking down at the floor. Francis smiled in response.

"Now, let's get you something to wear for tonight." Francis opened Mathieu's closet, only to realize nothing was not jeans, hoodies, or t-shirts. There were no night clothes. Francis stared at the small array of clothes, trying to figure out what to give Mathieu to wear. He hesitantly picked up a grey, soft-fabric pant. They seemed like jeans, but the fabric said otherwise. Thank goodness. Jeans weren't comfortable to sleep in.

"Um, here." Francis found himself handing the pant to Mathieu. "Switch this with your jeans, and wear that shirt for tonight. We'll go shopping tomorrow for more clothes instead of later."

Mathieu's cheeks were still red as he took the pant from Francis, murmuring a small thank you. Francis nodded at the boy. "I'll be right back."

Francis left the room in search for a storybook Antonio may have left from those times he and Lovi crashed. Hopefully, Antonio left something he could read to Mathieu. Mathieu didn't seem too old for storybooks.

Were seven year olds too old for storybooks?

Francis shrugged as he pushed open the guest bedroom doors, in hopes of finding a storybook. After searching the room, he couldn't locate a book. With a sigh, he went back to Mathieu's room.

The boy was standing by the small window beside his bed, looking out, at the stars. Francis smiled as he closed the door. Startled, Mathieu jumped. "O-Oh. U-Um, you scared me."

Francis laughed. "I didn't know I was so sneaky."

Mathieu smiled, looking back to the window before climbing atop his white-sheeted bed. "Um, I couldn't find a storybook for you, so I decided I'd tell you one instead."

The Canuck looked surprised. "A story? No one's ever told me a story before."

Francis frowned as he sat on the boy's bed. No one ever told him a story? A boy like Mathieu?

He suddenly felt bitter towards whoever the child's parents were.

"Well, there's a first for everything," Francis replied, motioning for Mathieu to lie down. After he complied, Francis began to wonder what kind of story he should tell the child.

Ugh, he'd never told a story before. Maybe read them aloud in school a _long_ time ago, but never really told anyone a story.

 _There really is a first for everything._

"So, um," Francis began to improvise. "Once upon a time, there was a… bear. A polar bear."

Mathieu said he liked polar bears, right?

Mathieu's eyes lit up at the mention of the animal, and Francis almost sighed in relief. "So, uh, one day, the polar bear who um, lived in… Alaska, decided he wanted to..."

"What did he want to do?" Mathieu asked, growing excited. Francis shared a shaky smile with him.

 _What the hell do polar bears want to do?_

"Um, he wanted to… eat fish. So he, uh… he went hunting for fish even though his bear friends told him not to."

"Why did they tell him not to?"

"Because… because they felt like. So, uh, anyway, he went fishing and caught a fish. Then he… ate it, and was really happy. Then he lived happily ever after."

Mathieu's wide eyes were still focused on Francis. He laughed nervously.

"The moral of this story is to follow your heart. Or stomach. Or something." Francis quickly concluded. "The end."

Mathieu tilted his head at Francis, looking at him for a minute, before nodding. "That was a nice story."

"Um, I'm glad you think so," Francis was happy that Mathieu seemed to _not_ hate his horrible story. But seriously, what can one say about _polar bears?!_ "Now, I think it's time you sleep."

Mathieu nodded snuggling into his blankets. Francis nodded back, getting up to shut the lights. "Good night, Mathieu."

Before Francis shut the door to the dark room, Mathieu called out to him. "M-Mr. Francis!"

Francis turned to Mathieu, hand on the doorknob. "Yes, _mon amis?"_

"U-Um…" Mathieu's voice was quiet. "C-Can you leave the door open a crack?"

Francis smiled, noting to buy a nightlight the next day. "Alright."

"A-And," Mathieu paused. "I-I wanted to say thank you."

"For what..?"

"For taking me in," Mathieu explained softly. "I-It means a lot. Ms. Eliza said that you may be strange to me since you don't like people my age, but she said you were really nice. And you really are nice, and you're not weird at all! S-So I just wanted to say thank you."

"I-I," Francis blinked. "You're… welcome Mathieu. I promise I won't ever be weird with you, okay? Ms. Eliza must have been confused, I _do_ like kids. So don't worry… I'm downstairs if you need anything Mathieu, _bonne nuit_."

The door remained a crack open as Francis made way downstairs.

He wasn't sure what Elizaveta said about him, but he was happy he left a well enough impression on the boy. And even more happy that he didn't mind Francis from the looks of it.

Thank goodness that was over. That was probably the worst story of mankind. And he wasn't even sure he tucked Mathieu in – properly at least. He was overjoyed that Mathieu was happy with him, but he didn't know the slightest thing on looking after children. Someone should write a book about kids and how to handle them. It seemed impossible and-

Parenting books.

Gosh, was he considering buying a _parenting book?_

All thoughts on having a late night drink were gone as Francis began to think about _parenting._

He'd drink tomorrow instead.

* * *

 **Well, that was more fluffy than I planned it to be. Oops? *Nervous smile***

 **On that note, a lot of things happen in the next chappie, concerning Francis' problem and more.** **I hope to have the next chapter up by the next weekend, maybe sooner?**

 **Please stay tuned and see you next time! L** **eave behind your thoughts!**


	4. Chapter 3

**Super, super, super, sorry for the late update! It was a super, super (insert 100 supers here) busy week.** **Sorry!**

 **I'll try to update sooner now. I originally planned on updating a few days ago, but I had trouble getting the document here.**

 **But anyway, here it is! I hope you guys like it!**

* * *

Chapter Three

Thankfully, breakfast wasn't awkward. Waking up to a panicking seven year old _poking_ at you to make sure your alive on the couch was awkward, but breakfast wasn't.

Francis discovered that Mathieu really _loved_ pancakes upon watching the boy eat about five of his homemade ones. Maple syrup was a must too. Despite Mathieu's suspicious accusations, Francis _did_ take a few photos of the child devouring his meal on his phone. And he put a number lock on the phone too considering how much the boy didn't want to be photographed.

Driving was a problem though. Francis didn't know if seven year olds needed a carseat or not. After referring to the internet, he discovered Mathieu _did_ need a car seat. He decided they'd walk to the mall. It was a fifteen minute walk, but it was safer than riding without a car seat. Francis wasn't going to risk Mathieu getting hurt over his own leisure.

Oh, how easier things would have been if he didn't have to worry about the child.

He really needed to read the papers Elizaveta faxed him. They probably had things that would make life easier.

Upon reaching the mall, Francis noticed Mathieu sticking onto him, as if afraid of being separated.

"Do you want to hold hands Mathieu? " Francis asked softly, voice audible over the mall's buzz. "So we don't get lost from each other."

Mathieu looked at Francis's extended hand, and hesitantly took it was a small nod. " _M-Merci."_

 _"De rien,"_ Francis replied as he scanned stores for boy's clothing. His eyes brightened up at a particular one. "Oh, Mathieu! I know just this place we should go!"

Upon entering the large outlet, the duo was approached by a blonde. He wore a light pink t-shirt, and leather pants to accompany the look. His hair fell till his shoulders, and his eyes were a vibrant shade of green. "Franny! I like, totally didn't expect to see you here! This is like, a kids clothing store, and tots useless for you, I-"

"Err, Feliks, I don't know if you've heard but, um, I've taken young Mathieu here in," Francis cut in, informing his somewhat friend. "So I needed to get him some clothes. Do you think you could help us find what he'd fit into?"

When Feliks's eyes fell upon Mathieu, he let out a strange noise, probably a squeal, and begun to drag the boy away, wandering into the land of clothing racks. "M-Mr. Francis!"

"It's okay Mathieu," Francis quickly followed. "Feliks here is just a friend. Feliks, this is Mathieu, and Mathieu, this is Feliks."

"You don't even like, need to point out the obvious Franny. And I can't believe you didn't tell me about him, cause like, even though it's been a tots long time, you still should tell me about your life and all." Feliks gave Mathieu a once over. "Hmm… Matthew, what's your favorite color?"

"U-Uh, red."

"Huh. That would look totally cute on you. Wait," Feliks began to pick up a variety of different clothing. They piled up in his arms within seconds. He shoved them towards Mathieu. "Try these on. Now."

After being led and shoved into the changing room, Mathieu began to change. Feliks began to gush about how adorable Mathieu was, but Francis was more focused on how the clothes fit him and if he liked them or not. After a tiresome hour or so, Francis left with about a dozen pairs of clothes, despite the boy's consistent protests.

"Are you hungry?" Francis asked Mathieu. He hesitantly nodded. "Hmm… alright, I think I know something you may like."

After settling Mathieu down in the food court with some food, Francis quickly ran to the dollar store and grabbed a nightlight. He was as fast as lightning, worried about leaving Mathieu alone too long. Thankfully, the boy was only a little shaken when he returned. Once he finished eating his own meal and making sure Mathieu had eaten his, Francis purchased a car seat, again disregarding Mathieu's protests. Walking home was a trouble with all the bags, but thankfully Mathieu had taken quite a few bags. They reached home in the afternoon.

The Canadian insisted to put his clothes away himself without Francis' help, where Francis only smiled and reluctantly allowed him to. He, in the meantime, set up the car seat for Mathieu in his car. The twenty six year old's body protested as he bent to secure the car seat.

He was tired. Shopping was fun, but tiring.

A night at the club might solve that.

But… Mathieu.

Francis sighed, leaning against his car. He just wanted _one_ night. His will wasn't strong enough to last him more than a day, but… Just tonight. After tonight, he'd dedicate himself to Mathieu.

...But he couldn't leave Mathieu alone!

 _Ugh, why aren't things simple?_

If only there was something, someone he could leave Mathieu with! Where could he get a babysitter from on such short notice?!

 _…Antonio._

He sort of did suggest a playdate.

So maybe, if Francis left Mathieu with him for the night, he could go to the club and pick Mathieu up in the morning..?

Pulling out his smartphone, he dialed his best friend's number.

* * *

"I'll be back in the morning, okay?"

Mathieu looked reluctant to nod, but he did. He clutched his backpack, looking down at the ground. "P-Promise?"

"I promise," Francis said softly. He stood up, smiling at Antonio. "Thanks Toni. I'll be back in the morning for him."

"No problem, _Amigo_ ," Antonio replied with a nod. "Ludwig and Feli are here too with Lovi, so he won't be alone."

Francis nodded. "Okay. Call me if anything happens. I mean _anything._ If anything happens, I want to know-"

"Relax!" Antonio cut in. "I'll call you if anything happens. Do… do you really… Uh, Matthew, why don't you go inside? Say hi to Lovi and the others?"

The boy looked scared as he peered in the house, but he obeyed Antonio's orders, venturing inside. Once he was inside, Antonio shut the beige door, stepping outside with the Frenchman. "Do you really want to leave Matthew alone now? He hasn't been with you for even three days, and-"

"It's fine!" Francis spoke confidently, nodding. "I've already spoken to him. He understands. Besides, it's only for tonight, not _forever."_

Antonio didn't look happy. He sighed. "Fine, it's up to you. I'm worried he'll think…"

"He won't think _anything._ I spoke to him, remember?"

Antonio shook his head, not meeting his friend's eyes. "Alright. Have fun at the club, Francis."

Francis frowned at his tone, but said nothing about it. Antonio was being irrational. It was just a night. He'd be back in the morning. "Thanks. Just… just look out for him."

And then he left.

Antonio sighed, looking down the street the Frenchman's car fled on. His friend wasn't taking responsibility. He didn't understand how _serious_ it was to have a child to look after. Closing the door after him, Antonio wandered inside to the children.

A five year old Feli was bouncing beside a seven year old Ludwig, talking about something that seemed to excite him - probably pasta. Eight year old Lovi seemed engaged with the TV, but several glances to the quiet, sitting on the floor, Matthew gave away his curiosity. The Spaniard hid a smile. Lovi always had a way of hiding his shyness, and it was usually pretending to be disinterested in things.

Antonio sat down beside Matthew. "Hey Matteo."

"H-Hi." Was his quiet response.

"I know you're… not comfortable here, but maybe if you get to know the others, you'll feel better." Antonio looked to Lovi, who was staring at them. "Why don't you go talk to Lovino over there?"

Matthew fiddled with his red backpack, still not looking at Antonio, but he slowly stood up from the ground, made way to Lovi, and sat down beside him, quiet. Lovi observed him for a few moments, but then seemed to hesitantly engage into a conversation. Antonio sighed a breath of relief, seeing Matthew wasn't lonely, before heading to the kitchen to finish up dinner.

At dinner, the Spaniard was happy to see Matthew speaking excitedly to Lovi as they ate pasta, who actually looked _interested_ in the conversation. It was surprising, seeing that their personality were polar opposites. Antonio knew Lovi had a bit of a sharp tongue, but Matthew seemed like the kind of kid who was always shy and polite.

Ludwig was eating his pasta, glancing now and then to the ecstatic Feli, who was dangerously devouring his dinner.

Antonio glanced at his watch. 10:32. A _really_ late dinner. The pasta had definitely taken longer than expected to make. Oh well. He ate at the kitchen counter since the kids had occupied the small, wooden table. While eating, he knew was the pasta was worth it.

Who knew what Francis was up to right now?

Antonio's eyelids lowered midway, suddenly not hungry. Francis… if only he knew how important this was. How much of a gift it was to have a child.

But when would Francis realize that having a child changed the way you live?

* * *

Surprisingly, instead of Lovi rooming with Feli as usual, and Ludwig with Matthew as planned, Lovi insisted on rooming with _Matthew,_ and Feli with _Ludwig_. Antonio was shocked to say at least, but after setting down Matthew in Lovi's room and Ludwig and Feli in the guest room, he overcame it. Both rooms were filled with chatter, despite how late it was. Antonio chuckled as he passed by the rooms.

He headed to his own room after double checking on the children, and found himself staring at the ceiling, thoughts wandering.

This year, Matthew would start school at Hetalia Elementary. Did that mean he'd be with Lovi? He was seven right? So he could also be a grade lower. Ludwig and Matthew were the same age, but Antonio didn't know what grade Ludwig was going to, since there were complications with the whole grade thing. He couldn't recall if Ludwig was too advanced for his grade, which would mean he would skip a grade, or if he would be learning in a special, gifted kids program in his proper grade. Antonio just pushed the thoughts away. No point when he had no info.

His mind wandered from the kids, to his dinner, and eventually, they weren't making much sense. He was falling asleep.

"Idiot! Wake up!"

But who can sleep when Lovino doesn't want you to?

Antonio groaned, resisting the urge to turn away from the child, and go back to sleep. "What is it Lovi?"

"M-Maple Ba-"

"Language."

"…Matteo's crying!"

Antonio's eyes quickly snapped open as he sat up, despite his tiredness. "What?"

"It's because of Frog Face! He left Matteo here because he doesn't like him, and he's not coming back!"

"W-What?!"

 _"Stupido_! Why are you friends with that jerk?!"

"I-I," Antonio stumbled out of the bed. "Get me my phone Lovi, it's on the dresser. I'm going to see Matteo."

"Hey! Don't tell me what to-"

"Lovi…" the Spaniard used his warning voice.

"…Fine. Go, quickly. I already talked to him, I think he may have stopped by now."

Antonio dashed out of the room.

* * *

With a flirtatious smile, Francis reached for another drink when his phone buzzed. Groaning, he reached out for it.

 _You need to come now. Something's happened with Matthew._

* * *

 **A small note: Mattie's name in this story, is actually Matthew Williams, but the spelling of it changes based on how people pronounce it. Francis refers to Matthew as _Matthieu,_ whereas Antonio and a few others call him _Mattheo._ His real name though, is pronounced, _Matthew_.**

 **Sorry if this chapter isn't as good as the others. It's just been awhile. A really long, tiring while. I've sorta only skimmed this over, but hopefully everything is here. I'll do my best with the upcoming chappies (which will be out soon!).**

 **Please leave behind your thoughts!**

 **I hoped you enjoyed the chappie!**


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

"You're an _idiota_ Francis!" Antonio hissed, carrying a sleeping Mathieu by the doorway. "I can't _believe_ you! I knew this was a bad idea, leaving him alone, barely finishing your second day with him, but _no,_ you need to drink. Drinking always has come first, doesn't it?"

There weren't many times when Francis had seen his friend so mad before. Maybe that one time he and Gilbert disguised themselves as customers and annoyed the hell out of him at his cafe, or the other where one of Lovino's teachers didn't wait for Antonio to pick him, leaving him alone.

This though, was almost as bad as the last time, where Lovino had almost been sent to the hospital because of a mistake made by a chef that almost caused food poisoning.

Eyes blazing, he cradled Mathieu, making sure that he didn't wake him up. Francis only found himself staring. He watched Antonio with his child, and a pang of guilt hit him, overcoming his drunkenness.

"If I didn't send you a cab, I bet you'd _drive._ I… I have absolutely _nothing_ to say to you."

A few seconds of silence.

"But I can't help but say, I'm _ashamed_ in you."

A warm nightly breeze blew, heating Francis' face.

"Come in. He's asleep now. You can take him home tomorrow morning, when I'll be sure you're not drunk." Antonio sighed. Francis silently stepped inside, closing the door.

"Toni, I-"

"I don't want to hear it. I just don't."

"But-"

"You can sleep on the couch tonight. Matthew will sleep in my room with Lovi. I'll watch over them."

"I-"

"Good night," Antonio hissed. Going upstairs, Matthew in his hand, he closed the living room lights with his elbow, leaving a guilt stuck Francis alone in the dark.

* * *

With morning arrived a hungover, hungry Francis. All Antonio did was slam a bottle of Advil on the table beside him, before going back to the dining room to check on the kids eating breakfast. Mathieu hadn't said anything, so either he was mad, or unhappy with Francis, or he hadn't seen him yet.

The doorbell rang as Francis came back from the washroom after throwing up. He winced at the noise as he sat down on the sofa. There was some loud chatter, and when an albino appeared beside him, Francis's suspicions were confirmed.

"Franny!" Gilbert's grin was too bright for him. "What's up?"

"I wouldn't talk to him," Antonio's voice was cold. "He can't even…"

Francis swallowed. Yes, maybe it wasn't the best idea to leave Mathieu alone, but…

He couldn't think of a reasonable excuse.

"Hmm?" Gilbert seemed oblivious to the atmosphere. "Hey, where's Marcel? I want to meet the little guy!"

"It's Mathieu," Francis whispered, eyes focused on the carpeted floor. Gilbert stared at his French friend with a frown, but didn't say anything.

"Hey! Matthew! Where are you?! Uncle Gil's got something for you!" Gilbert wandered into the kitchen, where Antonio and the kids were. Francis knew that he should talk to Mathieu, but he couldn't bring himself to it.

What did Mathieu think of him?

Was he mad? Sad? Did he even want to see Francis?

Francis couldn't blame him if he didn't.

With a sigh, he stood up, and slowly made way to the kitchen.

To his relief, Mathieu was okay. Laughing, actually. Something Lovino said, hopefully not with his colorful language. Stuffing another bite of his sandwich into his mouth, Mathieu began to talk, voice muffled. Francis resisted correcting his eating habits as Gilbert laughed, telling him to slow down. Mathieu smiled up at Gilbert and nodded, before turning back to his conversation with Lovino.

In front of Mathieu was what Francis assumed to be Gilbert's gift to Mathieu, a slingshot. Francis didn't exactly promote violence with children, but Gilbert unknowingly did. It was amazing how serious and disciplined his brother Ludwig had turned out.

Francis stood at the doorway, beginning to fidget. Nobody had noticed him as he observed Mathieu.

The Frenchman had never thought about Mathieu as a son, but the way he ate and talked reminded him of his own childhood, making his mind race to an alternate universe, where Mathieu was his real son, through genetics. He could call Mathieu's hair his too, because honestly, he shared the same fabulous hair.

Thinking back, before the accident of Jeanne, his high school love, they talked about having children. But then all his dreams were shattered by...

Francis shook the thoughts off.

He was seeing things differently now. Mathieu was his… second chance. His second chance to bring his life back on track. It was such a strange way to look at it, but it was all Francis could see.

Mathieu was like his son. The son he never had, the son he _wanted._ After Jeanne, the thought never crossed his mind, but after seeing Mathieu, it was all he wanted.

That meant letting go of the habits he so dearly loved. The habits that helped him forget about _everything._

But it was time. It was time to just _let go_ of the past.

Because it was the past.

And with his stupid decisions, Francis was worried he'd ruin his future.

No. That's not what he'd do.

* * *

"Thank you for everything Toni," Francis repeated. Antonio this time nodded, stiffly. One hand holding Mathieu's hand, the other his backpack with the slingshot, Francis walked to his red car, parked in the driveway. Mathieu hadn't spoken to him, but he clutched onto the Frenchman's hand tightly.

As he entered the driver's seat, Mathieu entered his car seat, securing it on his own like Francis had taught him.

The beginning of the ride was silent. Francis could see Mathieu looking out the window from his mirror, and he began to have trouble concentrating on the road.

Finally, he decided to address the elephant in the car.

"Mathieu," his voice was soft as Mathieu looked at his back. "I… I'm sorry about leaving you last night."

Mathieu shook his head. "I-It's okay Mr. Francis. I-I was fine."

Francis paused. Mathieu didn't know that he already knew what happened. That he already knew how he made the boy cry, under the impression that Francis disliked him and didn't want him back.

He decided to carefully approach the situation. "Mathieu… Your Uncle Toni told me about what happened last night."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the seven year old stiffed. "O-Oh."

"I'm… I'm not mad at you, and it's not that I don't want you either," Francis bit his lip as he stopped at a stop sign. "I… I told you about that party, right?"

Mathieu nodded, oblivious of the falsity that lay in Francis's words upon mention of the party he was told of the night before. "Y-Yeah."

"Well, I thought… I thought I _had_ to be there. I thought I had to go, that I couldn't miss it. But… I was wrong." Francis's eyes were focused on the road, but his mind and conscious was paying attention to Mathieu. "And I'm sorry Mathieu. I shouldn't have left you there. I didn't realize…"

Francis trailed off, unsure of how to put out all his emotions and regret into words. Mathieu, luckily, saved him from that. "I-It's okay Mr. Francis. I-I shouldn't have overreacted like that… I-I… I'm s-sorry if I embarrassed you…"

Francis's car was about to screech to a halt. Somehow, it pulled over gently.

Francis turned to Mathieu from his seat, neck straining to look back. "Mathieu! You didn't embarrass me at all! In fact, you were an angel, you made me proud, alright?"

Maybe the words didn't fit. Crying wasn't something to be proud of, was it?

But… maybe it was.

Everyone was allowed to cry.

It was a relief that Mathieu hadn't put such a restraint over himself of restricting emotions. So, in an odd way, that didn't make much sense at all, Francis was proud. Proud of his little angel… of Mathieu for being _strong._ And for handling the situation like that instead of rashly, through… violence of something else distructive.

Mathieu's cheeks were red as he nodded, murmuring a soft thank you.

"And another thing, I don't want you to _ever_ be sorry, okay? Unless it's your fault, and you didn't do _anything_ wrong."

Another shy nod.

"I… I do want you to remain under my care Mathieu," Francis's words shocked him, because he didn't realize how true they were until he spoke them. "I want to look after you."

Violet eyes met blue, and there was a silence.

Suddenly, Francis was being hugged by someone.

His shirt sleeves were dampened with Mathieu tears. Caught off-guard, he almost let out a yelp, but after comprehending the situation, he smiled.

And hugged the crying kid back.

"T-Thank you Mr. Francis!" Mathieu was quietly sobbing. "Y-Y-You… Thank you! I-I've n-never had some like you looking after me!"

Francis's cheeks reddened as he hugged tightly.

"I promise," he whispered hesitantly. "I promise I'll be a better guardi… _parent,_ from now on."

* * *

Francis was thankful Elizaveta had faxed papers concerning Mathieu's background, because it explained a lot, including last night's outburst. He paced around his room, reading while Mathieu watched television downstairs.

Francis's eyes had skimmed over the papers until he reached his background.

 _Matthew experienced child neglect due to his careless environment. Both of his parents had left him with other family, where he was disregarded. He was starved and treated poorly, causing his nervousness, and slight paranoia. Though he wasn't kept long enough at the Children's Analysis Centre provided by the city to children like him, he was in the process of being diagnosed with Anxiety._

Things didn't make sense. What did they mean by..?

What the… what kind of things did the kid see?

 _Elizaveta's Notes:_

 _Francis, if you mess this up, I'll kill you._

Francis paused with wide eyes at the statement, before carrying on.

 _Listen, Matthew's shy, nervous, and scared easily. If you mess up, then it'll be hard to get him back to normal. So don't. The office knows about your alcoholic tendencies, but I convinced them to give Matthew to you because I think you both need each other._

What..?

 _Matthew was found a year ago when his uncle's place was busted for… classified illegal activities. He was scared. Since there were no other family members that were suitable to look after him, Child Services stepped in. When your application came in, they decided you were suitable. They don't know about your lifestyle Francis,_ _my_ _office does. You should be happy no one said anything._

 _I figured out what happened with your papers and all. You sent some of your personal information to us instead of wherever it was supposed to go. It wasn't properly formatted, but we accepted it._

 _Now, just because you think you're all high and mighty, doesn't mean that you can take this responsibility easily. No, you have to own up to it._

 _Let's hope this was helpful!_

 _-Eliza_

Francis paused, swallowed, and then continued to read on.

 _Roderich's Notes:_

 _Don't mess up. He's a nice boy. Don't make him a hooligan like you._

 _\- Roderich_

The paper fell loose in his hands. Elizaveta's reminder of the mix up with paper's echoed in his mind. The thing was, he never put his personal information on any kind of paper, much less send it to anyone. He still didn't understand how he got Mathieu but…

Elizaveta was right, forget Roderich. He needed Mathieu. And maybe, just maybe Mathieu needed him.


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Francis couldn't help it. The moment he saw it, he knew that it was _made_ for Mathieu.

Mathieu was browsing toys when Francis came to him, a plastic bag in his hand. He asked what was in the bag, but Francis just smiled and shook his head, asking him if he wanted anything. Mathieu shook his head as they exited the mall.

Shopping was the only was Francis could think of to compensate for his decision.

The headache from the morning was gone, along with the hangover, thankfully. Otherwise, the annoying beeping coming from a certain store in the mall may have had Francis ripping his hair out. Mathieu was holding his hand loosely, looking around the mall. Their conversations were light, but nice. Nothing too deep, nothing too worrisome. The afternoon sky displayed a spectrum of colors as they exited the mall. They ate out, before heading home.

That night, Francis was excited as Mathieu slept.

* * *

"I'm glad you like crepes so much," Francis laughed as the young blonde stuffed his face. "Because it's one of the only things I make for breakfast."

Mathieu smiled, swallowing his food. "I love them! Thank you for making them, Mr. Francis!"

Francis shook his head, a small smile on his face. "Good, because you'll eat them a lot for the rest of your life."

"Can I wash my plate today?"

"Hmm… nope." Francis picked up the empty plate, and began to wash it. "Oh, and Mathieu, I left something on your bed for you. Wash your hands and go to your room to see it."

The child's head tilted at Francis. "You brought something?"

"Yes," Francis smiled.

"Y-You shouldn't have!"

"Stop being so formal Mathieu," Francis sang, putting the dish away. "Now shoo, off to your room."

Hesitantly, Mathieu complied, going up to his room.

Francis was delighted to hear a squeal.

Within seconds, Francis found something stuck to his leg. It took him a few seconds to understand that thing was Mathieu. One hand clutching onto the large, white item in his hand, other to Francis.

"Thank you!" Mathieu squealed, jumping up and around after Francis released him. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"

Francis picked Mathieu up without hesitation. "Do you like it?"

"I _love_ him!" Mathieu giggled. "Thank you!"

"Hmm… well, what will you name your new companion?" Francis looked to the polar bear Mathieu was hugging. "Uh, snowy?"

Mathieu shook his head rapidly. "Nope! He's going to be named…"

"Hm?"

"...I got it!" He exclaimed. "Kuma! Kumajiro!"

" _Kumajiro_?" Francis tilted his head at the boy in his arms, confused at the unfamiliar word. "Why _Kumajiro_?"

"In Ottawa, I had a friend who liked bears! He told me that in his language, bear was Kumajiro!" Mathieu told him excitedly. He began to bounce in Francis lap. "And polar bears are bears too, so Kumajiro!"

Francis nodded as though it was a completely rational reason, which it was. Sort of.

"Well, I'm glad you like it," Francis sighed then cringed, remembering something. "… Shoot."

"Huh?"

Francis had completely forgotten about the meeting until now. There was a meeting at his restaurant within an hour, and he _had_ to be there. It wasn't one of those things he could make the manager in charge deal with. The _owner_ had to be there. No one else.

But he didn't _want_ to leave Mathieu alone, and he couldn't take Mathieu with him!

"I have a meeting _mon cher,"_ Francis said softly, setting him onto the ground. "And I can't take you. Maybe I could leave you in the car..?"

It was too hot though. Probably not safe.

"Can…" Mathieu adorably bit his lip, looking nervous. "Um, Mr. Francis… can… can I go to Uncle Toni's?"

Wait, what?

"You _want_ to?" Francis asked incredulously. Mathieu nodded, cheeks pink. "Are you sure?"

" _Oui,"_ Mathieu replied, nodding again. Francis was hesitant. He honestly wasn't sure about this. Last time…

"Please?" Mathieu pleaded, violet eyes widening. He pouted, and before Francis knew it, he was dropping Mathieu off at Antonio's house.

* * *

Weeks passed by, and time flew by quickly. Mathieu had begun school at Hetalia Elementary.

"I need to talk to your teacher," Francis said with a frown. "It's December, Winter break's almost here, you're only in grade two, and you have a so much homework!"

Mathieu smiled, looking up from his papers that lay across the dining table. "It's okay Papa, everyone has a lot of homework. It's not just me."

Francis sighed, nodding as he slid into the seat across Mathieu. He tried not to show how happy he was when Mathieu called him Papa, something he had started to do from September. "Do you need help?"

Mathieu shook his head as he reached for an eraser. "I'm tired."

"You just came from school, I'd expect you to be." Francis closed his eyes, leaning back on his chair. "You don't mind riding the bus, do you?"

"No, it's okay," Mathieu laughed. "I made friends with someone today on the bus! His name is Carlos!"

"Oh?" Francis's eyes opened, resting his elbows on the oak table. He lay his head on them. "Tell me about him."

"He likes ice cream and he's from Cuba!" Francis blinked at the description.

"Okay," he said slowly. "Uh, tell me more."

"He and Lovino don't get along," Mathieu said with a frown. "What do I do?"

No. No, no, no, no. Francis did _not_ know how to get friendship advice. He mended things with Toni a long time ago, but recently, he and Gilbert had gotten into a fight.

"Uh…" Francis bit his lip, deciding to consult the internet and tell Mathieu later. "I'll tell you before you see both of them again."

Mathieu nodded. "Okay. Thank you Mr. err- Papa!"

Francis smiled as he got up. "Well, after tomorrow-"

"Is winter break!"

Francis laughed. "After tomorrow, we'll go out and eat anything you want, okay?"

Mathieu bounced in his seat happily, smiling and thanking the Frenchman fatherly figure.

Winter break arrived quickly. It was fun, a nice opportunity to spend time with each other. Francis had even stopped going to the club, and his drinking had greatly decreased since he got Matthew.

Yet, it seemed as though it was calling to him now and then. It made things hard.

Francis sighed, watching Mathieu scribble something down on his homework papers. He needed to divert his attention. Pulling out his phone, he stretched back on his chair. Noticing the notification, he opened his best friend's message to him.

 _Hola Francis!_

 _I wanted to invite you and little Matthew to a Christmas party that's happening at my place. You, Gilbert and someone else is invited. I really hope you can make it, Matthew would love to come. Will you guys be able to come?_

 _Of course it's on Christmas, and it begins at three in the evening. You guys are welcome to stay overnight if you want._

 _Tell me if you can make it!_

 _\- Antonio_

A Christmas party? Well that was new. Antonio usually didn't do those, but he had a point. Mathieu would probably like to go and play with the other kids, Lovino and Ludwig. He wasn't sure who this other person was, but if they had a kid then maybe Mathieu would become friends with him or her. Or them.

It _did_ sound like fun. Toni was an extreme partier in university – now, Francis would like to see him party with his kids and others. Plus, Gilbert would be there, and it seemed like it had been _forever_ since the three of them had met up. Francis wondered if the fourth party would make it out sane after the three of them were reunited.

 _Of course I'll come Toni!_

Francis paused. What else should he type?

 _I hope there's cake…_

If not his alcoholic beverages, cake was a must.

* * *

 **I am SO sorry! This was supposed to be up a long time ago, but when I tried to a while ago, I was too tired to pay attention to weather or not it went up, which is why the chappie is so late. Sorry!**

 **Before I go forward, I also wanted to thank everyone for their support - the follows and reviews mean a lot, really. I don't usually reply to reviews individually (I get a little shy), but I read them all, and I wanted to say thank you, because they really are wonderful. Please continue to leave behind your thoughts!**

 **Since I haven't updated in what seems to be forever, I'm putting two chapters up. They've been roughly edited, so there may be a few things here and there. I just want to put them up for now, and I'll be going over it a few more times later to make sure I didn't miss anything (though I've already gone over them quite a few times).**

 **This chapter is just to show how things have been going between Matthew and Francis. The next chapter definitely has more... _events_ within it. **

**I hope you guys liked it!**

 **Please leave behind your thoughts!**


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

"Please?" Mathieu pleaded. Francis sighed, but smiled, shaking his head.

"Santa knows when you're awake Mathieu," he laughed, pulling up the blanket atop his adoptive son. "So no, you can't stay awake to see him."

Mathieu pouted but snuggled into his blanket with a yawn. "Was I a good boy?"

Francis nodded as he turned on the nightlight. "You were _mon lapin."_

* * *

"Do you think he'll like it, _Monsieur Kuma?"_ Francis asked the stuffed bear Mathieu surprisingly forgot on the couch. He put another gift under the Christmas tree he decorated with the child. "I hope he does."

The bear stared back at Francis.

"I'm taking that as a yes," Francis murmured, feeling slightly creeped out by the bear. "You know what _Monsieur Kuma,_ you should go take a nap." He quickly hid the bear behind the couch, noting to give it back to Mathieu in the morning.

After the finishing touches, Francis took a few steps back and observed their Christmas tree. This was the first time he had really gotten into Christmas spirit – and it was because of Mathieu – but he was content to see the tree well lit-up with a shining star that Mathieu had place at the top, accompanied by the gifts beneath the tree.

It looked probably thanks to Mathieu, considering he decorated most of it.

Now even though he was supposed to give Mathieu's letter to _Santa,_ Francis doubted that the bearded man could read his writing, so he took it upon himself to deliver Mathieu's gifts beneath the tree. Besides, he really doubted that _Santa_ was getting the letters.

And if he was, too bad.

With a yawn, Francis fell back on the beige couch, staring at the Christmas tree for a few minutes. Then, he forced himself to go to bed.

Before he knew it, he fell into dreamless sleep.

The next morning though, was good enough to scare the life out of him.

Francis woke up to a shriek. He sat up with a jolt, heart racing, before running out his room in his pajamas to Mathieu's.

When he saw that Mathieu was missing from his room, he almost had a heart attack.

" _SQUEEEEK!"_ Francis barreled downstairs to the source of the shrieking. Mathieu – what happened to Mathieu – was he okay?!

The first thing that came to view was two legs coming out of a large, gift box. It took Francis two minutes to process it was Mathieu.

"Mathieu!" Francis frantically pulled out the child from the box. "It's okay! I got you!"

Mathieu dizzily gripped onto Francis with one hand, the other hand still holding onto the gift that remained in the box. "P-Papa, everything is spinning."

Francis raised an eyebrow. "What exactly were you trying to do Mathieu?"

"I wanted to see the gifts Santa left," the child pouted. "But I can't get this one out of the box."

A smile graced the oldest one under the tree's features. "Oh?"

Mathieu rapidly nodded. Francis couldn't help but laugh.

"Here, I'll help you," and with that, he gently lifted a pair of skates from the box. Watching Mathieu squeal definitely made going to that annoying store worth it.

Afternoon was beginning to approach. After getting Mathieu ready and getting ready himself, the duo got into the car. Flurries glided across the sky, but the roads were still full of snow from the snowfall in the morning. Francis was hesitant about taking the car out, but Mathieu was so excited, saying no didn't seem like an option.

They backed carefully out of the driveway, and then began to travel down the street, through the snow. The car moved slowly with the snow acting as an obstacle. With Mathieu talking animatedly behind him, Francis felt more confident and determined to get to the party.

"What will I say to Lovino?" Mathieu sighed. "I don't know what to say, because Carlos said that I shouldn't say anything to him since he's mean, but he's actually really nice!"

Francis didn't comment as he turned at an intersection. The streets were seemingly empty, and with the snow making it nearly impossible to drive, he doubted that anyone else would come out. Maybe they should have stayed inside…

With a heavy sigh, Francis began to search for a road clear of snow. There had to be somewhere that the city's snow plowers had gotten to.

"I think I'll talk to Lovino because I've been friends with him longer. And Carlos too! I just won't talk about Lovino that much with him."

Francis's eyes lit up upon seeing clear road. On top of that, it was a shortcut to Antonio's house!

"Well then Mathieu," Francis murmured as he took a turn to the clear road with difficulty. "I think you've sorted everything out."

"Yep!" The younger blonde bubbled. "Maybe I can even make them be friends too somehow!"

Francis laughed at that.

Then, suddenly, the car began to slide. The Frenchman's fingers tightened around the car's handle, as he tried to turn the car around, but it was futile. He had no control over the car. The break weren't working either. It continued to slide and no matter what Francis did, the car wouldn't obey to its mechanical commands.

Francis swallowed. They were on black ice.

And they were heading for a _really_ big pile of snow.

"Mathieu!" Francis yelled. "Get-"

The car collided with the snow, sending Francis flying forward, despite his seatbelt.

His head slammed against the dashboard and the world went black.

* * *

"…Please!"

Francis groaned. His head was killing him, giving him excruciating pain. His eyes slowly opened, light flooding into them. After rapidly blinking, he caught sight of a worried Mathieu sitting on his knees on the seat beside him – unharmed. "Mathieu?"

"Papa!" He was tackled into a hug. " _Est ce que vous allez bien?!"_

 _"_ _Oui,"_ Francis murmured, patting Mathieu's back softly. " _Et toi?"_

 _"_ _Je suis d'accord,"_ He replied quietly with muffled sobs. "I-I'm okay."

After inspecting him, Francis concluded Mathieu was alright. Then he inspected his surroundings and wondered how defective the air bags were after sitting his adoptive son onto the seat behind him.

They were engulfed in snow. Looking out each and every window, all that was visible was the whiteness of the snow. Francis bit his lip. They couldn't stay here too long.

"How long has it been since I passed out?" Francis ran a hand through his hair, only to discover it was damp. Slowly, he moved his hand back into his sight only to discover a red liquid.

Blood..?

His head was bleeding.

"Maybe… twenty minutes?"

Adjusting the mirror, Francis observed how his blonde hair seemed to be dyed with blood. He cursed under his breath. He didn't want Mathieu to see this.

He had to stop the bleeding.

The reasons to get out of the car fast and to safety continued to build up. Their oxygen was going to run out soon, Francis's bleeding head could mean a lot of bad things for him – medically - and the car was already a little cold, it wasn't going to take long until it ran out of the little warmth present. They couldn't stay here much longer.

The only reason he bandaged his head with a ripped part of his undershirt was to preserve his strength so he could get Mathieu out.

He had to get Mathieu out.

He had his whole life ahead of him.

Steadily breathing, Francis attempted to smile at Mathieu, reassuringly. The boy sat quietly in the back seat, watching his fatherly figure as he reassured him everything would be alright in their native language.

After being somewhat satisfied at his convincing skills, Francis slowly put his hand to the sealed, sky roof of the car. He pulled down the cover that hid the sky roof's glass, wincing at the sight of more snow. This seemed impossible.

But from what Francis remembered, the snow bank wasn't that big. If he were to open the sky roof…

"Mathieu," he whispered, eyes focused on the roof. "I want you to get as far back as you can on your seat."

If all the snow from above the sky roof was gone, he could get out of the car to assess their situation better, and see what he could do to protect Mathieu.

If a lot of snow - too much - were to come flooding in, Francis would somehow manage to close the window. It would flood the front of the car first. The further back Mathieu could get in his seat, the safer he was. After quickly glancing to Mathieu who was at the back corner of his seat, watching Francis with wide eyes, Francis slowly opened the sky roof.

A blob of snow fell in.

And that was that.

Francis raised an eyebrow at the sky roof, but didn't comment on his happiness to see the light blue sky above them instead of snow. He quickly whipped on his thin, purple gloves, adjusted his thin beige jacket he regretted wearing, and tucked his black pant into his boots. He tried to smile to Mathieu.

He was happy that he made the child wear something somewhat thick. After re-adjusting Mathieu's red jacket and tucking his jeans into his small boots, he pulled on the Canuck's favorite red and white hat on, hiding his ears under it.

"Okay Mathieu," Francis murmured. "I'm going to get out of the car. I want you to stay right here, okay?"

Violet eyes widened. "P-Papa…"

"Mathieu," he replied sternly. "You _need_ to stay here, okay? It's for your own safety. I promise won't leave you."

It was almost impossible climbing out of the car, but with the help of the front seats, Francis did it.

The first thing that he noticed was the ice cold air. His thin gloves gave him no protection against the harsh cold, and neither did anything else he was wearing.

He shivered while he took in his surroundings from atop of his car.

It was snowing, and the once clear road wasn't clear anymore. There were houses that Francis recognized to be in Antonio's neighborhood, which was good. They were nearby.

Now, the goal was to get to his house.

Francis dipped one leg into the snow from atop his car, and found land once the snow reached his mid-thighs. Swallowing, he called Mathieu to come out.

It was only a few minutes when somehow, the Canadian emerged out of the car's sky roof. His face instantly paled at seeing Francis standing in the snow, it reaching his thighs. A loud gust of wind swallowed whatever the boy had uttered. Francis just shook his head and motioned with his numb fingers for Mathieu to come closer.

The child complied, standing on the edge of the car. Francis ignored how lightheaded he felt, and how exposed his head wound was as he lifted Mathieu up onto his shoulders. When two small feet were around his neck, he almost sighed in relief.

"H-Hang on," Francis attempted to say, yet the wind was too loud for anything to surface above it.

Slowly, Francis forced one foot in front of the other. Snow crept up his pants, the boots provided no protection against it. Instead, his feet began to freeze with the rest of his body, and dizziness began to increase until he was sure it wasn't long before he'd pass out.

Winter was not his element.

* * *

 _Est ce que vous allez bien - Are you okay?_

 _Oui, et toi? - Yes, and you?_

 _Je suis d'accord - I'm okay._


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

The cold continued to bite away at Francis as Mathieu clung onto him. Antonio's house… it wasn't that far, was it?

He couldn't even feel his body anymore. He just commanded it to move as it had for the past ten minutes, but the snow started coming down harder and it was suddenly hard to see. All Francis could see was white. He was now just moving one foot in front of the other, all for Mathieu's sake.

But… he was almost sure he'd see a man standing a few feet from them every other moment. He'd appear every few minutes, standing not too far from them.

Hallucinations. He was hallucinating, right? That had to be it.

His body moved like a machine. The only thing he truly felt was Mathieu – his body warmth fading. It made him worry, but his mind was barely functioning that much. His exposed wound was causing all sorts of problems – aside of the hallucinations he assumed it was giving him. It was probably the only thing Mathieu could see – a bleeding head – and was starting to spread a painful sensation across his neck.

Suddenly, Francis wasn't sure where he was going and why. His legs just kept moving themselves forward, and he couldn't make them stop. So he went with it, there wasn't a choice.

It seemed like hours had passed by when a bright light invaded his eyes.

* * *

Bright. It was so bright.

Was he dead?

What… what happened to Mathieu?!

Rapidly blinking, Francis processed he was a near-empty room, laying on a large, beige bed.

 _What..?_

The room's plain white walls stared back at Francis, who resisted glaring back at the color as he attempted to pull himself up. As he fell back onto the bed from weakness, he noticed that he was wearing different clothes. A loose, white shirt and grey pant. He attempted to get up again.

The door in front of the bed suddenly opened.

Antonio? Gilbert?

What were they doing here?

Were they dead too?

"You're awake!" the Spaniard in green exclaimed, rushing to the bedside. "How're you feeling?"

"A-Awake?" Francis repeated slowly as he sank back into the bed. "So I'm alive?"

"Of course!" Antonio was rocking back and forward on the bedside now, making Francis feel somewhat dizzy. "You scared all of us, you know?"

Francis bit his lip, heart beginning to race. "Where… Where's Mathieu?"

"Playing with Lovi, Feli, Ludwig and the other kid," Antonio said as he put a hand to his bedridden friend's forehead.

"By playing if you mean Feli trying to calm him down while Lovino curses winter and Ludwig watches them, yeah, they're playing," Gilbert paused. "That other kid is trying to calm down your boy too, I think."

"Is he okay?"

"Just shaken," the albino replied. "But otherwise, the kid's barely cold. It's like he wasn't even affected by the weather."

Okay. Mathieu was okay. That put him at ease.

A silence lingered between the trio now.

"Gilbert…" Francis trailed off. Their eyes met, and he knew that his albino friend hadn't forgotten their feud.

"Franny," Gilbert shoved his hands into his pockets and looked away. "How… err, how are _you_ doin'?"

A wry smile made way to the Frenchman's lips. "Good, thanks."

"We found you on our doorstep!" Antonio said frantically. "It was so scary!"

"If by _we_ you mean Ludwig, then okay."

"I don't really understand," Francis murmured, cranking his head to Antonio. "Do you know what happened?"

Antonio sighed. "All we know is that you were unconscious at our doorstep, with Matteo trying to bang the door open. He said your car broke down and you carried him through the storm to our house."

"Ludwig was surprisingly the only one who heard him," Gilbert cut in with a grin. "I mean, he heard Matthew over the loud Christmas music, and that's gotta mean that he's inherited my awesomeness."

Francis couldn't help but laugh - shakily due to weakness. He knew that Gilbert would take every chance given to praise his younger brother, and he couldn't help but find it strangely adorable – something he'd never admit. "Well then, remind me to thank him later."

"Are you feeling okay?" Antonio asked, still somewhat worried. "You came in pretty bad."

"Ah, yes, I'm feeling somewhat better," Francis sighed. Though his head still ached, and he barely had any strength to move, and half of his body was numb, a little flushed too, he was... okay. "Thank you for helping me get better and all. My wounds don't ache as much."

"It wasn't us," Antonio swallowed. He stole a glance to Gilbert.

"Uh, it was the other guy."

"The other guy?"

"The one that Toni invited," Gilbert's demeanor suddenly took a full turn. Antonio glared at him.

"Now _I'm_ going to be blamed… Uh… what I meant to say was…" Antonio scratched the back of his head – something Francis knew was a habit of nervousness for him. "I need to go check on the others!"

The Spaniard dashed out the room, leaving Gilbert staring at the door with a bewildered expression.

"You know what," Gilbert finally spoke. "I'm just going to send the guy in and let hell loose. That way you can't kill me for not telling you later."

"What?"

Gilbert inhaled, leaving the room. Francis stared after him.

What was that about?

Francis shrugged as he turned over, closing his eyes.

* * *

"I see you're up," a thick British voice caused Francis's eyes to snap open from his light slumber.

Blue eyes met green.

"No…" Francis whispered. "Not you."

"Please _frog,"_ the man retorted with a snort. "The only reason I saved you was because you would have died if I hadn't – and it's a doctor's job to save the life of others when he can."

 _He saved my life?_

A triumph smirk overcame the British man. "In a way, your indebted to me. _I_ saved your _life."_

Francis groaned. If he didn't know better, he'd assume he was in hell.

"You're welcome," the Briton grinned.

"Why do I have to even know of your existence, black sheep of Europe?" Francis muttered under his breath. Unfortunately, he wasn't quite enough.

"Well excuse _you,"_ emerald eye's pierced his own. "Has the frog forgot my name?"

"How could I forget Arthur?"

Arthur shook his head, sitting down on the plush, red chair a few feet away from the bed. "Do... you feel better?"

"Oh, so you actually care," Francis retorted, despite knowing the answer.

"I'm a doctor," he grumbled. "I have to."

"Well I'm fine," Francis sighed, preparing for the next two words he didn't want to say. "Thank you."

Two bushy brows raised up as they fell into silence. Francis couldn't help but stare at Arthur, his old classmate. His ex-best friend.

Of course, things changed.

After university, he refused to keep Francis's company, claiming that his alcoholic tendencies were driving him down to a road of disaster.

Only now did it make sense.

But after throwing verbal attacks whenever they'd bump into each other, neither one of them were likely to swallow their pride and make up.

"So how are you?" Arthur finally said. "I saw your boy out in the living room. Matthew, right?"

Francis slowly nodded. "Is he alright? Medically?"

"Yes, he's fine," Arthur sighed. "Quite worried though."

"I see." It felt more reassuring to hear it from Arthur – considering he was a doctor and all. "So you have a boy now too? Or is it a girl?"

"A boy. His name's Alfred, I adopted him," Arthur paused. "We're… we're still the same, aren't we? I mean, look, both of us have adopted – and are living on our own."

Francis decided not to comment on how he didn't _want_ to adopt in the first place. What mattered was that Mathieu was with him now – and he enjoyed the child's company.

"Gilbert and Antonio told you a lot," Francis observed. "You haven't found anyone special yet? I thought you would have by now."

The Brit visibly swallowed, and Francis caught something flash in his eyes as he looked away. "Maybe I did find someone."

"But something happened, didn't it?"

"So, your restaurant," Arthur quickly changed the topic – which didn't go unnoticed by Francis. He decided not to comment. Something must have happened that… he didn't want to talk about. "Your friends told me about it. How's it going?"

"Good," Francis yawned. "You should stop by sometime with Alfred."

"I might," Arthur stood up from the chair and walked to the drapes. Slowly, he pulled them open. The bright whiteness caused Francis to flinch as he rapidly blinked to adjust. "You had hypothermia by the way."

"Had?"

"Well, I did the best I could to control it. Your head wound's patched up too. Thank Antonio for having everything I needed and cooperating. Don't thank Gilbert for panicking like a child."

"Gilbert panicked?" Of course, when it came to each other's health and important issues, the trio of Gilbert, Antonio and him would put feuds aside to help each other out. But panicking?

Francis grinned.

He would use this against Gilbert later.

"I recommend bed rest for a while. And visit the clinic soon," Arthur's eyes met his. "You can ask for Dr. Kirkland when you get there. I'll be following your case."

"Oh… I…" A small smile eventually made way onto the Frenchman's lips. "Thank you, Arthur."

"Hey! Oh – I – ugh! Shut it frog!" Francis couldn't help but snicker at the Brit's embarrassed expression. "I don't actually care you know! I-I'm a doctor!"

"I know Arthur," Francis laughed. "You've told me a couple of times now."

The Brit looked like he was going to kill himself, but instead sat down on the window seat. Both men focused their eyes on the snow storm outside. Francis internally shivered, remembering how bad it was out there for him. Silence stretched out for a few minutes.

"Did you see him?" Arthur's voice was quiet.

Francis frowned. "Who?"

"Last time he was seen was in a snow storm like this. It lasted for days – and then, just like that, it was gone. In fact, the weather became quite warm," Arthur's eyes didn't move from the window. "I find it… strange."

"What are you talking about?" Francis's eyebrows quirked at Arthur's strange behavior. " _Who_ are you talking about?"

"He's… I don't understand. I haven't heard anything like it before, and neither has anyone else in the trio."

Suddenly, it all made sense.

"You're still in that magic group?" Francis groaned. "It's nonsense Arthur, I thought you'd be over the nonsense by now. And if you're asking if I saw anyone out there, in the storm, then the answer is no

Even though he thought he saw someone, he didn't - it was a hallucination. It was impossible for someone to stand around in a storm like that.

He had been hallucinating.

Arthur began to shake his head. "Anyway, I'll bring you some soup now."

"A-Arthur! Please! Y-You don't have to-"

"Relax frog," Arthur scowled at him. "Antonio made it."

The Briton made way to the door, but paused at the doorway.

"I'll let you know, Alfred _loves_ my food." Francis watched him storm away with one lingering thought.

That poor child.


	9. Chapter 8

**Just wanted to say thank you for sticking around! All of your support is treasured, I promise, it means a lot! I did my best with this chappie, and I hope y** **ou guys like it!**

 **And so, here we bring the next chappie! Onward we go!**

* * *

Chapter Eight

After being attacked by Matthew's worry and tears and some of the other children as well, Francis fell asleep – without receiving any soup. Antonio couldn't help but laugh at his unconscious, drooling friend who lay in the old guest bedroom. So, they were staying overnight after all.

The children were playing near the decorated evergreen. Feli and Ludwig were playing together as usual, this time with colourful blocks, building towers and whatnot. If Antonio didn't know better, he'd say Lovino was jealous of how well Alfred and Matthew were getting along together as they played with the miniature wooden trains – unaware of Lovino's scowl.

Antonio smiled at the children as he stirred his coffee. He turned his attention to Gilbert and Arthur – who were surprisingly having a civil conversation. Though he wasn't too sure about it when they began to throw small, scrunched up paper towel pieces at each other. He internally groaned. They didn't know how much they were influencing the children. Within a few seconds, it would be World War III – with paper towel cannons.

There wasn't any point in telling them to stop. It would be a futile attempt.

Antonio sipped his coffee. Everyone was here – good health or not. If Francis was healthier, the party would probably be livelier. In school, Francis was the life of the party.

That was until he met Jeanne though. Antonio couldn't forget the chemistry between them – it was undeniably strong. They were the golden couple, though neither realized it.

And then the accident. It probably tore Francis apart. Before Jeanne, it was just hardcore partying. His grades weren't too bad, and he never drank. He was decently responsible. After Jeanne though, his grades slipped and he began to drank like there was no tomorrow. He had let go of all his responsibilities and barely made it through university.

Luckily, he and Gilbert were Francis's best friends. They formed the trio known as the _Bad Touch Trio._ They had met in middle school, and stuck together from there, even through university when it all went South.

But Antonio also remembered how Francis and Arthur were close at a time – closer than the trio had been. Apparently, they knew each other from _kindergarten._ It was basically, their whole life. When Francis's life fell into a downward spiral, Antonio remembered Arthur being there the most. But maybe it was a just a year and a half later when he remembered walking into Francis's apartment, Arthur yelling at him.

* * *

" _I can't bail you out again Francis!"_

 _"Then don't," Francis drummed his fingers on his desk, looking lazily at Arthur. "Does it really matter where I am to you?"_

 _"Francis!" Arthur's eyes blazed. "I've had it with you! I drove from medical school all this way because you keep getting into bar fights! Can't you at least try to stop drinking? You aren't even trying."_

 _"What's the point?" Francis yawned. He caught Antonio's eyes but didn't say or do anything to indicate he was aware of the Spaniard's presence._

 _"Listen," Arthur hissed, digging his fingers into Francis's shoulders. "I get that you're mourning over Jeanne, but if you're going to drink your life away…"_

 _"What?" Francis tested with a lazy smirk. "What will you do, black sheep?"_

 _"Then you can forget about me," Arthur pulled away from Francis, voice getting quiet. "I can't watch you throw your life away. I've done my best to help you Francis. I've read every single book on depression and addiction."_

 _Arthur's voice cracked. "And no matter what I do, you drink. You spend your day in your apartment drinking, and the night at the club. You never reach the therapy sessions I schedule for you. You never try to exercise the methods I tell you to for your addiction either. You never try."_

 _For a second, something in Francis's eyes flashed. But then he spun on his chair, back towards Arthur, and Antonio who stood a few feet away, by the doorway._

 _"I don't need everything you're doing for me Arthur," Francis's began to drum against the table again. "I don't need you in my life either."_

 _"...Oh," Arthur breathed. "I… I see. I suppose then... you're better off without me Francis."_

 _"I suppose."_

 _Arthur stood silently, unmoving and not blinking by Francis, staring at the back of the Frenchman's chair. He swallowed, and finally recollected himself "…In that case, Francis Bonnefoy, goodbye."_

 _Antonio couldn't bring himself to say anything as Arthur stormed away. Instead, he just stared at Francis's back, before following Arthur out._

* * *

"What's wrong, tomato idiot?" Antonio came crashing back to reality as he looked down to see Lovino looking up at him with his usual scowl.

"Oh nothing Lovi," the Spaniard sighed with a small smile. He looked up to confirm his suspicions. It was World War III, paper canons style.

Gilbert was more involved with the kids, whereas Arthur seemed focused on hitting Gilbert's face with balls of paper. Ludwig seemed invested in the battle from behind the coffee table, successfully hitting someone with every throw while Feli was yelling something about surrendering from behind the couch. Matthew and Alfred were laughing as they throw paper balls at Gilbert, who let out a laugh and challenged them into an "epic paper battle".

"Why aren't you apart of the battle?" Antonio asked, placing his cup of coffee back on the table. "I'm sure you'd have fun."

He caught Lovino's scowl at Alfred and immediately understood. "You can ask to play with them too, Lovi."

"Hell no."

"So you'll stop being best friends with your best friend because of someone else playing with him?" Antonio questioned softly. "Perhaps if you played with Matteo _and_ Alfred, you won't be alone."

"Alone? I'm not alone," Lovino snorted as he stole another glanced at the blonde duo. He swallowed, and bit his lip. "But… If that Burger idiot thinks he can take away _my_ best friend, he's wrong!"

Antonio watched Lovino march over to the duo who were hiding behind a table. He plopped down beside Matthew, who looked startled by his presence, but then smiled. He held out a small, paper ball to Lovino, who hesitantly took it and said something too quiet for Antonio to hear. Then, he proceeded to target and attack Gilbert.

And the paper battle unfolded in front of him while he sipped at his coffee.

This wasn't what he had in mind for the party, but if everyone was having fun, there wasn't anything more perfect. Even if it meant picking up all those small paper pieces from literally _everywhere_ in this area.

 _Ugh_ , that meant the return of his horrible back pain.

* * *

"I'm _really_ sorry!" Mathieu squeaked again. Francis smiled with a roll of eyes.

"I told you _mon petite,_ it's okay. I was already awake, you didn't wake me up." Francis hoped the lie wasn't too transparent. "Now come on and lie down."

Mathieu crawled into the bed hesitantly. "Are you sure I didn't wake you up?'

"Yes, I'm sure. Now, tell me about the Christmas party that I missed," Francis turned to face his adoptive son, who was hugging part of the quilt – Kumajiro's replacement.

"It was fun! We had a paper fight and made gingerbread mans and-"

" _Men,"_ Francis couldn't help but corrected. Gah, Arthur was rubbing off him already.

"Gingerbread men and played games and I made a new friend today! His name is Alfred, he looks just like me! And our birthdays are close too! He's a year older than me though," Mathieu smiled. "But he's really nice for an older kid!"

Francis laughed, pushing down a yawn. Fatigue was creeping up on him already, even though he'd only been awake for less than a minute. "I'm glad to hear that. Did you have fun?"

Mathieu nodded with a grin. "It was awesome! And everyone else is staying for the night too!"

"Wow." Well, with the horrible weather, who'd go outside? If Francis gave it more thought, he wouldn't have left the house with Mathieu either in the morning, but with his current radiation of happiness, Francis would do it all over again. "Well, I think it's time for us to sleep."

Mathieu pouted, but didn't protest – he never did. Instead, he curled up into the quilt and closed his eyes. A small smile overcame Francis's features at his adopted son before he close his own eyes.

They lay like that for a few moments.

"Hey Papa," Mathieu suddenly spoke. Francis cracked an eye open to see the Canuck's eyes closed, lips moving. "Someone said… that you didn't want me at first. They… said that it was an accident. That I shouldn't have come to you in first place."

Francis froze. "Where did you hear that?"

"Mr. Roderich was talking to Ms. Eliza when she was babysitting me last weekend."

"Oh," Francis bit his lip. He didn't want Mathieu to find out – it was true, but now he was truly grateful for the paperwork mistake. He couldn't imagine life without Mathieu – he'd given up his alcohol addiction for him. Mathieu had brought light into his dark life.

"Is… do you want me?" Mathieu voice was barely a whisper. "Lovino was telling me about his dad – Uncle Antonio. He said that he didn't have a mom but his dad still wanted him. Then I remembered what I heard and I can't stop thinking about it."

Right. Lovino had lost his mom as a baby, so he never really did have one in his life. Antonio was the strong, single parent.

Francis was like him. Not too strong, but definitely a single parent.

"It's true Mathieu," Francis began hesitantly. "I… I didn't want you, _at first."_

"…O-Oh."

"But," he put a hand on the child's head, playing with the blonde hair. "I don't think I was really smart then, because I really do want you to stay with me now, Mathieu. You're my son after all. I don't think I can see a life without you."

Mathieu's violet eyes slowly opened to meet blue ones. "R-Really?"

"Yes," Francis smiled, moving his hand to hold his son's small one. "I promise."


	10. Epilogue

**I apologize for the late chappie! This is quite late, but some things came up, and it took some time for me to deal with everything. Regardless of all that though, I present to you this chappie - the epilogue!**

* * *

Epilogue

Francis's eyes watched the two children laugh as they slid the salt and pepper shakers across the table to each other. Alfred teasingly stuck out his tongue to Mathieu, who mimicked his actions. Francis smiled at the two kids who had grown close ever since the Christmas party two months ago.

"They look rather alike, don't they?" Arthur asked with a lazy smile as he sipped his coffee from across the counter.

"That they do," Francis murmured. "Anyway, how do you like your coffee?"

"Not bad," Arthur's eyes fell to the coffee. "I prefer tea though."

Francis laughed. "Well, we don't serve tea."

"Of course you don't," the Brit replied with a grimace. "Why would your restaurant serve tea anyway?"

"Exactly," the Frenchman grinned. "So, you didn't tell me how things are with Alfred."

"I pulled out the records," Arthur rested his chin on his palm. "Turns out he _does_ have family. A brother, around his age. Martin or something – I can't remember. Vash didn't let me look at the file long enough. They were separated at birth, but I don't know why."

"Huh," Francis tilted his head at the two blonde children who were laughing in the table booth as he fell into thought. "Interesting."

"What's so interesting about it?" Arthur grumbled. "Now I have to hunt down his brother."

"Why?"

"Because family shouldn't be separated. It… it just shouldn't happen. I'll adopt the other boy if I have to."

It made sense for Arthur to be so touchy about family and the whole concept of it. He was adopted himself, but separated from his older brothers. When they finally met up as adults, they couldn't contrast more. Eventually, his brothers decided that it would be best if they didn't keep contact. Arthur was heartbroken over that.

"What if he's already adopted?"

"We'll schedule playdates then," Arthur replied. "I don't care if the other parents want it or not. It'll happen. And I _will_ get that file. You'll help me."

"I will?" Francis asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, you will. We'll break into Vash's office if we have to. You remember how to pick a lock, right?"

"Of course I do!" Francis exclaimed, faking disbelief. "How could you even _think_ I'd forget?!"

Arthur tried to hide his laugh, but failed to. "Oh, frog. Run along now, your friends are waiting for you to take their order."

Francis followed Arthur's pointed finger to Gilbert and Antonio, who were sitting by the window on some high stools. Francis couldn't help but mess Arthur's hair before escaping to his friends from the cursing Brit. Thankfully, the restaurant was empty, other than his friends and a few children. Perhaps the sign didn't say open. He'd check on that later. It was a lazy day, and he only had one employee today anyway, who was in the kitchen.

" _Bonjour, mes amis,"_ Francis plopped onto the seat beside Antonio, who was now in the middle of Gilbert and him. Gilbert stopped speaking once the Frenchman sat down. "What can I get you?"

"A date," the albino replied with a raised eyebrow, voice humorless. "I sort of need one for Elizaveta and Roderich's anniversary party next week."

Both Antonio and Francis flinched at that.

 _Once upon a time_ , Gilbert was in love with Elizaveta.

"How about you just not go?" Francis suggested, lightly shrugging. "It's not like you _have_ to."

"Eliza said she'd pluck my eyes out if I didn't come," Gilbert sighed, leaning against the back of his seat. "I'm her _best friend_ after all."

They sat in silence for a few seconds.

"Anyway, how're things with Matthew?" Gilbert changed the subject. "I heard that someone made the hockey team."

A smile played on the Frenchman's lips, Eliza forgotten. "Ah, yes. He made it, and he's overjoyed. Right now, he wants to be a hockey player."

"A hockey player? That's… dangerous," Antonio commented with a sip, hiding a smile.

"Yes, yes, I know. It's just a phase though, last month he wanted to be a polar bear trainer," Francis smiled at the memory. That was a terrifying idea, but thankfully, the young boy had seemed to forgotten of it.

"I see you're doing better with _Matteo_ ," Antonio observed as Gilbert murmured something about a bathroom break as he fled from the area. "You're really doing better as a guardian, Francis."

" _Parent,"_ Francis had to correct. "He's my son. And yes, I suppose I am."

"I told you that you'd be fine," the Spaniard placed the empty cup on the marble table. "And I'm happy you are."

"Me too," Francis's eyes turned to Mathieu, who seemed to be wrestling Alfred in their booth. Arthur was quick to approach the duo, stopping their physical attacks on each other. "He changed my life. I can't be happier. He changed _me."_

 _"_ For the best," Antonio added. "Now you don't drink and you're actually managing your restaurant."

"True," Francis whispered as he closed his eyes, resting his head onto the table.

"Jeanne would be proud of you, you know."

"She would," he agreed softly. He knew she would.

His life had changed in the past few months. From getting Mathieu to present day, his life had transformed. He was always sober, and cherished every moment spent with Mathieu, knowing that one day he'd grow up and leave to live his life on his own.

Mathieu had probably been a gift. There was something about him that stopped Francis from turning back to his old habits. Now, with Mathieu, he looked back at his old habits with disgust. They were nothing to be proud of, after all. He had wasted a large portion of his life with them.

But it was time to turn things around. From now onwards, he would look after Mathieu as though they were related by blood – something he forgot they weren't at times.

His dark world had been given light, and he wasn't going to let go of it.

* * *

 **A little thing to the side - it gets better. It'll take some time, but it will. When you find yourself spiraling into a dark and endless spiral, and you think you can't get out, ever - you can. You may need a little help, or you may be able to do it all on your own, but you can get out, as long as you want to. Give yourself time, and a little motiva** **tion - or, instead, find that motivation. Sort of like what happens in this story.**

 **And this concludes the story!**

 **Before I say anything, thank you for the support everyone! You guys motivated me to keep writing, even when I was nervous about it, so thank you!**

 **I enjoyed writing this, and I hope everyone enjoyed reading this as much as I did writing it. I originally was going a complete different path with this story, and things changed at a certain point, but I scraped that and I'm definitely more satisfied with this. I hope everyone liked it!**

 **Please leave behind your thoughts, as this is the last bit of this story!** **I'd love to hear what everyone thinks!** **I know that updates were unsteady, but I thank you for sticking around nevertheless! I did my best with this story, so hopefully it was good.**

 **There is an extra (bonus?) chapter though! I plan on putting it up tomorrow or within a few days. It features Arthur and Francis' past.**

 **Until then,**

 **Seeker of the Stars**


	11. Bonus Chapter

Bonus Chapter

"I can't believe it," Arthur was shaking his head. "I just bloody can't."

Francis grinned, clutching the paper close to him. He couldn't wait until Gilbert and Antonio would hear about this. And no, he was never going to let this go. Seeing Arthur so flustered was worth all the effort.

"You shouldn't be so surprised," Francis sang, circling the Brit who stared at his own paper with red cheeks. "I mean, I did study more than you did."

"N-No, you didn't!" Arthur spluttered, finally looking up to the dancing Frenchman. "You just studied for an hour last night! T-This… there must be some mistake! There's no possible way that…"

"That I got a better grade than you?" Francis supplied with a taunting smirk. "Well, what can I say… perhaps I should prepare a speech to share with our fellow classmates about how I beat you academically on this essay? They'll be so amazed that-"

"Frog," Arthur's voice was dangerously low. Emerald eyes met blue, and Francis stilled. "I'm going to kill you."

And that was his cue to run.

No one bothered to wonder why an angry, cussing Brit was chasing a laughing Frenchman.

* * *

"I can't wait till I my application from Med school comes back. I can finally get away from you," Arthur sighed as he played with the Frenchman's hair. "You _really_ need a haircut."

"You used to ask me how to make your hair like my own Arthur," Francis teased, smiling as Arthur flicked his hair back at his face, lying back down on his bed. Francis turned around on the floor, leaning against the wall so he was facing the laid down Brit. "And you'll come back from there in no time because you'll miss _me_ so much-"

"As if," the bushy browed Brit snorted. "I'll be happy to get away from you."

Francis smiled, familiar to Arthur's way of showing that he cared. "Of course."

They stayed there like that for a while, in silence. Francis looked around their messy dorm room, where half of Arthur's stuff was laying around _everywhere,_ and the other half was packed away in card board boxes for preparations of moving in to the dorm at Med school.

Francis sighed as he took everything in. Arthur was going off to Med school, and though his application acceptance letter hadn't come back, both of them were confident that he'd be accepted. It was just a matter of time. If only, somehow, they could study at the same place, same school. Unfortunately, his business class wasn't offered in the college Arthur had applied in.

Technically, Arthur wasn't supposed to even be in his dorm. He wasn't even enrolled in Francis' college, but somehow, the Brit had talked everyone with authority into letting him stay with Francis for a month and participate in a few of their essays and activities, for _fun_. That was Arthur, doing stuff like that for fun.

He would have been in his own college by now if there wasn't trouble with applications over there. The whole process was so hectic, Arthur would start Med school late because of it.

October was drawing near now, and Arthur would be gone within no time. Francis bit his lip. He'd have Gilbert, Antonio and of course, Joanne but… he'd lose Arthur. His best friend. He sighed, shaking the thoughts off as he stood up.

"I'm going to get groceries from the shop down the street. I'll be back in a few hours."

"Be back soon. And hey, wait," Arthur sat up with furrowed eyebrows. "Don't we have some of the scones I made earlier left? How about-"

Francis had vanished before he could finish the sentence.

* * *

It had only took half an hour to bring back fresh groceries. When Francis opened the door, he didn't expect to see Arthur on the floor, quietly sobbing over a piece of paper. The groceries fell to the ground as the Frenchman rushed to the Brit's side.

"Arthur!" Francis grabbed onto the blonde. "What happened?! Wha…"

The Frenchman's eye caught a stamp on the paper.

It was a letter from Arthur's med school.

 _No._

Francis slowly picked the paper up, shakily bringing it closer to read. His hands trembled. A feeling of dread filled his stomach.

Arthur had to have been rejected. That had to be why he was crying. He tried so hard and… those stupid people… If only he could beat them up. He began to read the paper.

Francis dropped the paper after reading it. Slowly, he turned to Arthur, before hugging his friend. They sat there for a few moments, just like that. Arthur's sobbing finally ceased, and Francis pulled away.

"I told you that you'd miss me," Francis let loose a small smile as tears cascaded down his cheeks. "I told you."

Arthur's smile kept wavering. "It just feels so real… just looking at it."

The Brit had been accepted.

Francis shakily laughed. Of course. Arthur wasn't going to even say that there was a chance he _wouldn't_ be accepted. But, Francis had doubted he wouldn't be either, so they were on the same team. The Frenchman bit his lip so that it wouldn't shake, and the tears wouldn't escape his eyes like waterfalls.

The duo stared at the acceptance letter, sitting parallel from each other on the floor. "I'm going to miss this dorm. The campus. Even your annoying friends."

"As they will miss you Arthur," Francis' smile was starting to feel a little painful now. He let it fall.

Arthur's emerald eyes met Francis' blue ones.

"I'm going to miss you too," he finally said, before launching himself into his friend's arms. Francis let out a pained laugh.

"About time you say so," he murmured.

This was going to be the first time they had truly separated from each other. Since they were toddlers, they stuck to each other like peanut butter and jelly. They couldn't be separated. But now, Arthur was going to leave him for the first time, for a school cities away.

"I have an idea," Francis spoke softly as Arthur pulled away. "Why don't we celebrate tonight? We never really did, and I know you could go for a drink right now. Especially from your favorite restaurant downtown with horrible food."

Arthur smiled. "You hate to drink, frog. Don't try to fool me. And don't forget, you have plans with Joanne tonight. We can celebrate some other time."

Francis smirked at him. "We're going to that awful restaurant tonight, like it or not. I'm sure Joanne would love to come too, she'll be happy for you. I'll even invite Gilbert and Antonio. All five of us will go to that horrible restaurant to celebrate, just for you."

Arthur had to laugh this time. "Insulting the place while insisting on taking me there, are you? Well, I'm honored that you're willing to withstand their food. Although, I don't understand why you're inviting your hooligan of friends with us. I don't mind Joanne but your friends…"

"Believe it or not Arthur, Antonio and Gilbert will miss you too," Francis smiled as he stood up, helping the Brit up too. "They just won't admit it."

Arthur sighed, dusting his pants and then picking up the letter, staring at it again. Francis grinned like a Cheshire cat. "Thinking about framing it?"

The Brit almost stuck his tongue out at the Frenchman. "Shut up." Francis rolled his eyes before looking to their clock that hung on the wall.

"Go get ready, I'll put the groceries away and tell the others where we're meeting. Shoo now."

As Francis walked towards the groceries and Arthur in the opposite direction, the Brit stopped in step.

"Hey Frog?"

"Hmm?" Francis turned to the Brit with one plastic bag in hand. Arthur's smile was warm, emerald eyes glistening with tears.

"Thank you."

And with that, the Brit sped away to his room leaving a smiling Francis standing by the doorway.

* * *

 **And here's the official last chapter of the story! I did my best, I hope everyone enjoyed it! This was shorter than I expected it'd be, but I think everything turned out well enough. Thank you again for all the support!**

 **Please leave behind your thoughts on the story!**

 **And have an awesome day!**

 **Until then,**

 **Seeker of the Stars**


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